


15 (And a Half) Goodbyes

by witchofhearts



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Pre-Canon Personalities, Spoilers, i guess, pre-game, some OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofhearts/pseuds/witchofhearts
Summary: A collection of stories about the students who entered the game and the people they left behind.





	15 (And a Half) Goodbyes

 

The apartment was silent.

Kaede didn’t really make much noise on a usual day, but today it seemed especially as though the emptiness was palpable in the air. It lingered over her as she sat crossed legged on the sofa, eyes glued down to the same spot of carpet as they had been for the past few hours. Every once in a while there would be a noise from somewhere else in the building; the jangling of keys as someone opened their apartment doors or the sound of footsteps pacing above her head, reminding her of her place in the universe, but it was always easy for her to drift back into the isolated comfort that silence gave her.

Somewhere in her gut, she knew that she should have stood up and cleaned up the room a long time ago, but there was a heaviness in her gut that made everything move in slow motion and made her limbs feel like lead. The clutter and mess that surrounded her didn’t bother her as much as it would have a few months ago. Papers with notes and drawings scribbled on them were strewn haphazardly across the walls and floor and empty cups were piled unwashed on the dining table. Midday was edging on, and she hasn’t opened the curtain yet.

Despite it all, she just sat.

She didn’t know how long she’d been there. Her legs were numb from lack of blood, her hands felt like two heavy stones on her lap, and her joints were throbbing dully. There was a sense of unreality in her body, as if she was a rusty and unused mannequin. Even blinking required too much effort.

The digital clock on the wall was bright and bleared her vision, and it was like an unwelcome intruder in the careful peace Kaede had crafted. 11:51 AM. she wondered if she should wait for Ayumi, or if she was going to be late. She needed a ride.

Her eyes fell onto the blank screen of the television. Papers were scattered all over the stand. Ayumi’d reprimand her, odds were. 

11:53.

Didn’t matter, anyways. If it all went to plan, she’d be on there soon enough.

Closing her eyes one last time, she let her aching body sit up and flood with the blood which it desperately needed. On her feet, the apartment looked a lot smaller, and she felt the tightening of claustrophobia in her chest as she bent down to pick up the worthless scraps. The space was the best she could do with the income she got, but it was worth it to keep herself as low profile as she needed. She didn’t like people. She didn’t trust people. 

The knock on the door was right on cue, and Kaede didn’t need to mutter more than a single ‘come in’ before the figure of Ayumi Akamatsu has stepped into the room.

The anxiety was clear on her face, but she made up for it in her appearance. Unlike Kaede, who found that her willingness to bother with physical presentation had diminished severely in the past few months, Ayumi had tried her best to keep a semblance of normalcy to her life. In a cream sweater and jeans, she looked completely out of place in Kaede’s baggy-tee-shirt, messy-paper-scattered apartment.

“Somebody was cosplaying in Hiyaga,” she said, setting her bag down and immediately scooping up the papers that were collected near her feet. “Koharu. The tap dancer.” 

“I liked Koharu.”

“She died.”

“I know.”  
Kaede knew that Ayumi had long foregone asking her if she was ‘okay’ - because the answer was just as consistent as time - but her face was still creased into a frown which was a little more than just worry about her sister entering a life-or-death game show. Kneeling down to where Kaede had kept her bags, she gave a deep, heaving sigh.

“Are you even going to need these, where you’re going?”

Kaede’s eyes fluttered up, barely meeting her sister’s own, more penetrating gaze. They were identical in every way, expect for their eye colours and overall demeanour. Kaede hadn’t bothered much which what she looked like - never had - and Ayumi always looked like she tried too hard to fit in the mould of impeccable perfection. Winged eyeliner and glossy hair, and her back always straight up.

Kaede wasn’t jealous, really. A girl with a personality like Ayumi’s was one that would always be too concerned about other people, and what they thought of her, and so she’d never be able to survive in Danganronpa. Not when other people were the enemy. Not when the pure essence of survival was pinned on the idea of mistrust and deception. People and trust weren’t her Kaede’s assets.

And so, she could win like this, if she tried.

“I don’t know what I’ll need. I haven’t even been told my talent yet.”

“Well,” Ayumi paused, and Kaede could tell it was killing her to have this conversation. Unfortunately for her, there was no other choice. The opportunity for backing out had long since dispersed, when she’d gotten a phone call a week ago telling her that she’d won a position in the show. “What did you apply for?”

The words rose in Kaede’s throat, but she didn’t speak immediately. Her talent was the one thing that had left her stumped, and she’d spent hours pouring over empty scraps of paper (now binned), coming up with something unique and engaging. She’d ranged from SHSL Spy to Contemporary Dancer, and it seemed that each and every talent offered unique and engaging possibilities.

But it had always come back to Pianist.

When Kaede was younger - before she’d learnt that people were not to be trusted and that the world wasn’t a place filled with smiling parents and brightly coloured crayons - she had desperately wanted a piano. While some children wanted a pet dog or cat, or they wanted to travel the world or be a superhero, Kaede wanted to be a pianist. There was just something about the sound of the music which had encapsulated her entirely - the way the keys blended together something that was almost like art. As a child, it was the only thing that had soothed her when she couldn’t sleep, or when she saw something that scared her (Like clowns. Kaede hated clowns.). Despite never having played, or ever really learnt all that much, it had encapsulated her.

Their parents died before she could get lessons, and it all went downhill from there.

Kaede knew that if she told Ayumi, her sister’s eyes would have glistened with hope that shouldn’t have been there, and there would have been a connection that she didn’t want. There was no reason for Ayumi to hope - not anymore, when Kaede was just another drop in an uncaring ocean. She didn’t want Ayumi to care for Kaede the normal person. She wanted to world to care for Kaede, the Super High School Level Student.

So instead, she gave her sister a coy smile, and averted her eyes. “I suppose you’ll see on TV.”

“You know I don’t like that show.”

That stung. Kaede tried to minimise the impact of the blow by brushing it off through her expression, but perhaps the flicker of hurt in her eyes gave it away. 

“I suppose I’ll watch it anyways, though.”

Kaede - a master at the art of not caring - flicked her hair over her shoulder and stood up straight. “Let’s go, then.”

The apartment building was just as silent as it had been before, as the two sisters made their way down the flights of stairs to the car that was parked out front of the road. It was midday on a Friday, but the streets were unusually bare as Kaede stepped into the passenger seat. Looking up, the apartment building was just as boring as it ever was. There was no sentiment or meaning to her gaze as they slowly rolled away, heading down the suburban mundanity of the street, and Kaede felt nothing but the bundling of excitement in her chest. That was something. If all went to plan, she’d never have to see that place again.

Then again, if it didn’t go to plan, she’d never see it again, either.

The car journey was silent as they drove, and Kaede wasn’t sure if Ayumi was mad or sad, or maybe both. It was only after they had driven past dozens of street corners and traffic lights and the tall office building that housed the team that she had only ever dreamed of meeting that her sister turned to her.

“What if you don’t make it?”

Kaede’s eyes were harsh and glued in front of her.

“Kaede?”

“I will.” Her voice was like steel, full of harsh, unbreakable determination. “Trust me, I will.”

“But-“

“Ayumi,” for once, Kaede turned to meet her sister’s eyes. “I’ll make it. I’m sure of it. I just won’t ever let my guard down. As long as I don’t trust, I’ll be fine. You know me.”

There was a moment of uncertainty where her sister held her gaze. Her eyes were soft and breakable.

“I suppose I do.”

And so, when they passed the gates to the building and a man in a white uniform signed them off, Kaede smiled. This was the start of a new life, and she was sure that she’d be a hero. She’d be loved. Adored.

She would live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bloody love doing character explorations, yo.


End file.
